Draco Malfoy: The Hidden Truth
by Teaspoon95
Summary: What Draco's life might be like. OC involved. Takes place during the Chamber of Secrets  sort of
1. Chapter 1

This is my first fanfic, so please review and tell me what you think!

I walked slowly towards home, while I went through the day moment by moment inside my head, and I cherished every one of them. I stayed longer by some memories before I put them as far back in my brain as possible, where no one could find them. Because it was just as important to stuff the memories away, as it was to actually remember them. I didn't even want to think about what could happen if he got to know. There was nothing that frightened me more than his cold fury.

Therefore, I tip-toed through the garden and through the kitchen door. My father would never be in the kitchen so I knew that was a safe zone.

When I entered I heard the well-known thudding and the horrible sobbing of Dobby. I rushed towards him and pulled him away from the oven where he'd been standing and banged his head into the stove plates.

"Stop it!"

Since it was an order he stopped immediately.

"Dobby is so sorry young master, but Dobby has to punish himself, because Dobby has been a very bad houself, young master."

Dobby looked as if the world was about to fall apart, and I looked suspiciously at him.

"What have you done?"

Dobby whined again, it was obvious he didn't want to talk.

"Tell me! I promise that my father never will get to know."

Dobby still looked a bit doubtful, so I hurried to add: "You hold my back and I hold yours. A service for a service, right?"

Dobby looked as if he would begin to cry of happiness.

"Oh, young master, Dobby has never been offered a service before. Young master is a…"

"Yes, fine, that's enough. You helped me with the birthday party, right? Go on now, tell me what you've done."

Suddenly he was all insecurity again, and he shuddered before he whispered:

"Dobby warned Harry Potter."

He wailed and threw himself towards the oven again. I grabbed him by his collar.

"Stop it! Don't move and calm down! I forbid you to punish yourself for this."

I waited until he breathed slower before I kept on.

"Warned him of what?"

"Master says that big, and horrible things will happen at Hogwarts this year. Master says it will be dangerous for mudbloods at Hogwarts."  
>"But Harry Potter isn't a mudblood."<p>

"But he was the one who brought down He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"Has it got something to do with You-Know-Who?"

"Dobby can't tell young master, because master told Dobby not to tell anyone. Dobby wasn't supposed to hear."

"But you told Potter, right?"

"Dobby only told him that horrible things were happening at Hogwarts, Dobby couldn't tell him more."

While Dobby was talking his voice raised until it was just a squeak, and I noticed a change in his attitude that only could mean that he was about to punish himself further.

"Dobby, it's alright. You don't have to punish yourself and you don't have to tell me anything else. It's fine. I'll have to go now, but see you later."

"Dobby is so thankful young master. Young master is so nice to Dobby."

I gave him a weak smile.

"Well, you're nice to me to."

I succeeded in getting to my room without anyone noticing. My room was my harbor. I didn't have to pretend here. I was my own.

It was a very neutral room. Nothing much on the walls. On my desk there was a pile of papers, a couple of beautiful and expensive quills and a photograph of me and my parents in the garden. It was taken last year, before I went to my first year at Hogwarts.

I had two bookcases, which were filled with books about all different subjects. I pretended to not care very much about studying but in truth, I did. Last year I didn't study much because I didn't think my father wanted me too. But then, when he saw my grades, and realized that the best in our year was a muggleborn, he had a very serious talk with me. He told me how very disappointed he was and that he had expected more from me. So this year I'm going to study, because that might make him proud of me. Plus, I also think that all the subjects at Hogwarts are very interesting, so it was really boring not to study. Anyway, my bed is huge, and very comfortable. It has dark green-sheets, even though I would have preferred blue. But all details in my room are green. I guess I'm trying to fool everyone into believing that I do belong in Slytherin. Which I obviously do, since I was sorted there, but anyway. Okay, fine. I wasn't completely honest with you. I have to pretend in my room too. Nothing on the surface is me. Everything you first see when you enter the room, it is not me. But if you walk into the wardrobe, yes, you actually can walk into it, you'll find the real me. Because in the darkest corner of the wardrobe I'm keeping a trunk. In that trunk I have collected everything that has got to do with Melissa. All her letters, all photographs we've taken, and all her presents. Now I head straight for this trunk, open it up and start unpacking my bag. Today we celebrated our birthdays so I got a book and a new CD from her. Plus a couple of photograph which I have to put in the album. I put the book next to the earlier in the series. It is a muggleserie so my father must not know about it, even though I like a lot. I take out my CD-player from the trunk and change Michel Jackson's Bad album to this new one. As I press the play-button I pick up the photograph album as well, and start to put in today's photos.


	2. Chapter 2

The last track of the CD ended. I sat straight up before I started to put away all my things as quick as I possibly could. I had been sitting there far too long. I had forgotten about the time and now I was late for dinner. I carefully closed the wardrobe before I rushed out of my room and down the stairs. Though midway down I stopped dead, and ran upwards again. I had to change clothes. Into my room again. Open the wardrobe and pull out a clean shirt, clean trousers and clean robes. I pulled off my old clothes and hurriedly put on the new ones. I pulled on my robes as I ran down the stairs the second time and then I stopped in front of the dining room doors. I took a couple of deep breathes and pulled my fingers through my hair before I carefully opened the door and entered. My stomach took a leap when I realized that my parents weren't the only ones in the room. I swore to myself. I had forgotten that we expected guests for dinner, and now I had been both late, and had forgotten to dress up.

"Ah, but there he is, Lucius. No harm done, he must just have forgotten about the time."

"Indeed he must have had."

My father's cold voice, made very clear what I could expect when the guests had left. I dared one glance at him and his cold eyes confirmed my worries.

"So Draco, tell me, what is it that makes you forget your obligation as a host?" The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, smiled at me, and I made my very best to imitate my father's manners, though I was still shaken by my father's quiet promise and didn't quite succeed.

"I was reading, sir."

"Ah, an ambitious son you have Lucius. Excellent, excellent, so I suppose you're doing well at Hogwarts?"

"Not as good as I would have hoped."

My father answered before I got a chance. I felt the blood rush towards my face, and I lowered my head. I hated it when he humiliated me in front of other people. I was going to show him that he could be proud of me. I was going to make it into the Slytherin house-team and I was going to become one of the best students in my year. I would be at least as good as Granger if I had too.

"Ah, Lucius, surely, if he's studying this much he must have good grades?"

"One would think so, but obviously it is not true in his case."

I was happy to hear that the Minister changed the subject after that and I walked away and stood in a corner until it was time for dinner. During dinner my father and the Minister and the other men talked politics while my mother spoke with the women about dresses and similar things. It was disgustingly stereotypical. I ate under silence, since I was the only child at the table. I never understood these dinners. I had no chance of being involved in the conversations, yet I had to be there. And this was worse than other times, because all I could think of was what would happen to me when the dinner was over. As the dessert entered my stomach hurt because of the tension, and I could barely get it down. Unluckily the Minister noticed.

"Draco, are you feeling very well? You're looking a bit pale."

"Oh no minister, I'm fine. Just a bit tired, I was out playing Quidditch earlier."

I felt my father's eyes upon me, but I didn't look his way.

"Ah, Qudditch. Of course. I suppose you will try for the house-team?"

"Yes I will, sir."

"At what position do you wish to play?"

Once again my father was quicker than me.

"He's trying for Seeker. All summer he's been talking about how easy it seems, and how good he would be."

I bit my tongue. Of course, I should have known this would happen. I had been so busy to show my pretended dislike for the golden trio, that I hadn't thought about the consequences, and now I couldn't be a chaser. Once again my father ruined it all for me. Or was it I who did?

"Ah, a Seeker. That is an important position. Then you're competing with Mr Potter, aren't you? I've heard he's very talented."  
>At that moment I could have given almost anything to make my father stay quiet.<p>

"Well, Mr Potter is the one my son is so clearly unimpressed by."

"Oh, really? Well then I'm looking forward to hear about your battles."

The Minister gave me a meant-to-be-encouraging-smile, though my heart was like a stone in my stomach. I knew I couldn't defeat Potter as a Seeker. Because he was talented. He was the best Seeker I've ever seen, and yet we were so young. And the thought of being a Seeker didn't thrill me at all. I wanted to be in the middle of the game, not soaring high above, watching and waiting.

After four further minutes my mother was kind enough to tell me to go to bed.

"It's obvious you're not feeling well, dear."

There was an agreeing murmur and I left the table, with polite excuses.


	3. Chapter 3

It was late at night when my father finally knocked at my door. I knew he had wanted me to stay up, and therefore I was still fully dressed. I stood up as he entered the room. He looked around with his usual indifferent expression. I don't know what he was looking for, and I don't know if he found it. He took a couple of steps closer, before he stopped in the middle of the room.

"You were late."

"I know father, and I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

I heard my excuses stumble out of my mouth, but he silenced me with a raised hand.

"I am very disappointed."

I felt my heart drop to my feet. "I am very disappointed" was always followed by a lot of displeasure.

"I thought I had taught you how very important it is to make a good impression, and being on time is a part of that. And as if being late wasn't enough you were barley respectable."

I lowered my head. As if trying to show my regret was going to help me at this point.

"Take of your robes."

"Father…"  
>"Take them off."<p>

There was a cold fury in his voice which I couldn't disobey. I took off my robes and started to unbutton my shirt.

"Keep your shirt on."

I looked at him in confusion, but he just told me to turn around and put my hands on my desk. I tensed as I waited for the first beat to hit my back. It never did. Instead I felt a numbing pain in my legs, and I almost fell down.

"Straighten up."

I tensed again, and this time I knew what was coming so I was able to stand straight for the next ten whips. After that I lost count. I just know that when it all was over all I felt was hot blood, pumping through some formless masses that an hour ago had been my legs.

He left me on the floor. I heard him leave the room, and I heard someone else enter. But I couldn't see, because the pain was shielding my eyes. I remember someone putting me in bed, and then how the same person started to take care of my legs. But then the pain grew too big and everything went black.

"You can't go on like this."

"Since when did you start to tell me what I can and can't do?"

"Since I started to fear for your son's life. Because I hope it is not your intention to kill him?"

"Of course not! How dare you? He needs to learn what it is to be a Malfoy."

"Of course. But if you wouldn't beat him unconscious every week or so, I think you would see a much better improvement."

I tried to move but I stopped dead in the middle of the movement as my legs started to throb. I couldn't help but escape a yelp of pain. My father and Severus turned towards me.

"Ah, you're awake."

My father looked at me, and I felt even worse as I saw his indifferent face. In pure vain I turned towards Severus to see if maybe he would look sorry for me, but his face held even less expressions than my father's.

"Severus was kind enough to make an ointment for you. It will have you up and running in a couple of days, and by then we should be able to go to the Diagon Alley to get your new school-artifacts."

He snapped his fingers and Dobby appeared out of thin air next to him. Dobby bowed deep.

"Master called Dobby, sir."

"Get some breakfast to Draco. Some sandwiches will do."

"Yes sir, immediately sir." And Dobby disappeared again.

Silence fell over the room. My father started to walk around and inspect every inch of the room while Severus silently stood by the door. After about three minutes of unbearable silence, Dobby entered the room with a pile of sandwiches and a large bottle of pumpkin juice.

"We're leaving."

My father and Severus left the room, while Dobby put down my breakfast at my desk and then hurried toward my bed to make it as comfortable as possible for me.

"Thank you." I said when he put a pile of pillows behind my back, and helped me to rest against them.

"Young master must not thank Dobby. Dobby is just doing what Dobby is told."

He put my breakfast in my knee.

"Dobby made chicken-sandwiches, and ham-sandwiches, and some with cheese too, because Dobby knows that young master likes these, sir."

"Thank you."

Dobby bowed deep before making himself ready to leave.

"Dobby."

He stopped and turned around towards me. But he still had his head bowed deep, and didn't look at me.

"Please, look at me."

He slowly raised his head, and in his big green eyes I saw pity. I turned away to stare down at my sandwiches.

"Thanks, you can go."

I hated the tone of superiority in my voice. I hated shielding myself from the only person in the house that could understand me.

That was the last time I spoke to Dobby alone for two years.

A week later I got up early to dress for a day in the Diagon Alley. I had only been up for two days and was still a bit shaky sometimes. The whole being in bed thing had made me miss out on Melissa's departure, which made me quite bad-tempered. We had been writing letters to each other but it wasn't the same thing. I mean, we were writing letter throughout the years.

I went downstairs and ate my breakfast in silence while my mother and father talked about in what order we should go to the different stores.

"I want a new racingbroom." I said sulkily.

My father slowly turned his head towards me.

"Pardon?"

"I want a new racingbroom. I won't be able to race anyone down with my old one. Nimbus 2001 just joined the market. It's the best there is. I want one."

"Of course. Let's just hope you get into the team."

"I will. And if you doubt it you might know a few tips on how to make sure I will. I mean, if Potter would be in the Gryffindor team, but…"  
>"I will talk to Severus."<p>

I smiled, but I didn't feel anything.

"Thank you father."

When it was time to leave my mother decided to stay at the manor which made me very disappointed. That meant I would have to spend the whole day in the company of my father. I never liked those days. It meant a lot of pretending, and it never turned out as good as I wanted.


	4. Chapter 4

My father took me to Knockturn Alley before we did anything else. He was going to sell some objects with connections to Dark Magic that we had at the manor in case the Ministry would do a raid. We went to Borgin and Burkes, because where else would you be able to sell these things?

When we entered I started to look around, fascinated against my will, as always. I found the shop both disgusting and thrilling. Right in front of me I spotted a glass eye, and I stretched out my hand to grab it.

"Touch nothing Draco."

I stopped midair, and lowered my hand.

"I thought you were going to buy me a present."

I put on a lot of sulkiness, just to annoy him.

"I said I would buy you a racingbroom."

"What's the good in that if I'm not on the house team?" When he didn't answer I kept on: "Harry Potter got a Nimbus 2000 last year. Special permission from Dumbledore so he could play for Gryffindor. He's not even that good, it's just because he's famous ... famous for having a stupid scar on his forehead." I looked close on a couple of skulls, trying to make out whether they were real or not. Then I kept on with my well-rehearsed speech about Potter.

"Everyone thinks he's so smart, wonderful Potter with his scar and his broomstick-."

"You have told me this a dozen of times already. And I would remind you that it is not - prudent - to appear less than fond of Harry Potter, not when most of our kind regard him as the hero who made the Dark Lord disappear - ah, Mr. Borgin."

My father turned towards the man that had appeared behind the counter. I didn't like Mr Borgin. He gave me the chills, and he was so obviously ingratiating.

"Mr. Malfoy, what a pleasure to see you again," said Mr. Borgin as he smiled a greasy smile. "Delighted - and young Master Malfoy, too - charmed. How may I be of assistance. I must show you, just in today, and very reasonably priced -" Eagerly he started to walk around the counter to show my father something, who interrupted.

"I'm not buying today, Mr. Borgin, but selling,"

Mr Borgin's smile faded.

"Selling." His tone too had changed drastically.

"You have heard, of course, that the Ministry is conducting more raids," My father took out a roll of parchment to show mister Borgin, and I started to look around the shop again. I spotted a withered hand that lay on a cushion and I went closer to examine it.

"Can I have that?" I said loud and pointed at the hand.

"Ah, the Hand of Glory!" Mr Borgin quickly went over to me, and that almost made me regret I had said anything. "Insert a candle and it gives light only to the holder! Best friend of thieves and plunderers! Your son has fine taste, sir." He kept on.

"I hope my son will amount to more than a thief or a plunderer, Borgin," My father's cold voice made very clear he did not like me interrupting his affairs, and even less the words of Mr Borgin.

"No offense, sir, no offense meant -" Mr Borgin foolishly tried to smooth it over.

"Though if his grades don't pick up," I felt the blood rush towards my face, "that may indeed be all he is fit for -"

I couldn't help but try to explain it away.

"It's not my fault. The teachers all have favorites, that Hermione Granger -"

"I would have thought you'd be ashamed that a girl of no wizard family beat you in every exam," he snapped. I turned to look at my feet. It wasn't the fact that Granger beat me in every exam that made me ashamed. It was the fact that I tried to blame her for my bad grades.

As my father and Mr Borgin picked up their subject again I started to walk around the shop again, angrily examining everything. As I turned away from a necklace, I found myself right in front of an old cabinet. It was of dark wood and quite handsome. Curiously I stretched out a hand to open it, but I was interrupted by my father.

"Done. Come Draco." I quickly turned back and went to stand next to my father.

As we left the shop he put a hand on my shoulder to make sure I didn't disappear. I glanced up on him and immediately tried to impersonate his expression of disgust towards the filthy streets and the even filthier people who sneaked around in here. I also tried my best to adapt his proud attitude, but it's hard when you found yourself being afraid of everything within a thirty yards area.

Though as soon as we got into the Diagon Alley I automatically relaxed. I liked it much better here. It was lighter, and held much more interesting shops.

The shopping went smooth, with the exception of my father driving me mad with all his remarks about how much more he would have believed me about. And as we went to Flourish and Blotts I was close to exploding. So as I watched the drama between that Lockhart-man and Potter, I saw my chance. I went down the stairs towards him as I straighten up and put on my very best, and Malfoyish sneer.

"Bet you loved that, didn't you Potter?"

He straightened up and stared into my face. His look of total dislike would later keep me away from falling asleep, wondering what the hell I was doing, but at the moment no such doubts were present.

"Famous Harry Potter. Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page." I rolled my eyes.

"Leave him alone, he didn't want all that!"

In surprise I turned towards the girl standing next to Potter. Judging by her red hair she was the youngest Weasley. She barely reached my shoulder but was nevertheless glaring at me, unafraid.

"Potter, you've got yourself a girlfriend!"

As she went scarlet I felt a little sting of shame, but I threw it aside, as Granger and Weasley made their way to us.

"Oh, it's you." Weasley looked at me as if I was some disgusting creep. "Bet you're surprised to see Harry here, eh."

I didn't quite understand what he meant but wasn't late to retort.

"Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley. I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all those." I made a gesture towards his books, and as always, making comments about money and his family made him go as scarlet as his sister. He threw his books into his sister cauldron and started towards me. I was almost disappointed as Potter and Granger grabbed his jacket. I would have welcomed a fight.

"Ron! What are you doing? It's too crowded in here, let's go outside." It was Mr Weasley who had arrived. I felt a rush of disappointment. I hadn't been done yet.

"Well, well, well, Arthur Weasley." My father put his hand on my shoulder as he spoke. I glanced at him, and saw that he was wearing the very same sneer that I'd been doing just a minute before. I turned towards Mr Weasley with new interest.

"Lucius." His eyes were cold as they met my fathers, and he made an effort to go away, but my father interrupted.

"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear. All those raids… I hope they're paying you overtime."

There was a very bad hidden remark in that line. As he'd spoken he had reached for a book in the Weasley-girl's cauldron.

"Obviously not." He kept on as he looked closer to this second-hand-book. "Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it."

I curiously turned towards Mr Weasley to see his reaction, and he had flushed scarlet just like his children.

"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy." Mr Weasley had straightened up, despite his flushed face, and I felt my father tense next to me as he spoke.

"Clearly." My father answered in a cold voice, and I followed his eyes towards a man and a woman who were standing a few feet away, watching with non-understanding written over their faces. I realized it must be Mr and Mrs Granger, after a quick look at their clothes, and I felt a sudden rush of longing for Melissa and her very kind parents, who resembled Mr and Mrs Granger so much.

"The company you keep Weasley…" I heard my father say, and I felt angry on the Stewart-family's behalf, before I remembered they weren't the ones he was speaking about. "And I thought your family could sink no lower."

The insult made Mr Weasley throw himself at my father. I barely had time to duck away, before they banged into a bookshelf and made all the heavy books fall down over us. Mrs Weasley and the shop assistant were yelling for them to stop, but it wasn't until Hagrid entered the shop and broke them apart with force they let go of each other. My father had got hit in the eye and it was already swelling up and shifting into blue. My father looked furious as he thrust the Weasley-girl's book back to her.

"Here girl, take your book, it's the best your father can give you."

He gestured with his hand that we should leave the shop and I hurried after him. I didn't dare say a thing as we headed towards the Leaky Cauldron, nor as he stretched out an arm for me to grab before he Disapparated. And he was just as quiet. Not until we stepped inside the doors and my mother worriedly asked him what had happened, he spoke.

"Draco, go to your room."

My eyes widened. I hadn't done anything; he couldn't possibly blame me for what had happened. He must've seen the fear in my face for he spoke again.

"Go to your room, Draco. I need to speak with your mother."

"There is nothing wrong." My mother filled in, and a kind smile from her assured me, and I ran up the stairs, so my father wouldn't be able to claim I was disobeying him.


	5. Chapter 5

_Melissa, you will never guess what happened today. Me and my father went to Diagon Alley to get everything I'll need for school this year. We also went to Knockturn Alley to sell a couple things that father has in the manor. You see, the Ministry is making raids to confiscate dangerous and cursed objects. Plus poisons and similar things. Well, you get the point. _

_Anyways, when I had got all my school-things, I ran into Potter. I was quite angry at the time since my father had been going on a lot about my grades during the day so I saw my chance to let some of it out. In the end, I had turned also the youngest Weasley against me (no surprise though), and my father had gotten a blue eye after a fight with Mr Weasley. It's true! They actually started to fight in the middle of the bookstore. _

_Well, the thing I actually want to tell you is this: When we got home, my father sent me to my room, because he wanted to talk to my mother alone. But during dinner, he said that I had to know what was about to happen. And here we go. He said, that "great things will happen at Hogwarts this year", just as Dobby told me earlier, remember? And when I asked what it all was about, he told me that I would just keep my head cool, and wait for it all to start. And when it did, he said I would write to him, and update him, but he refused to tell me what I should be waiting for. He said I would notice. The thing is I'm worried. There was something about the tone in his voice while he was talking that was making me uncomfortable. Plus another thing he said. He said it would make the school "purer than it has been for centuries". What if someone gets hurt? _

_Well, I guess there's nothing I can do about it at the moment. It didn't matter how much I tried, I couldn't get anything more out of him. But I will keep you updated. _

_Anyways, tomorrow I will get my new Nimbus 2001. My father forgot to buy me one after the fight with Mr Weasley, and I didn't dare say anything until during dinner. So tomorrow it is. And I think I'm gonna try for Chaser anyways. I really don't want to be a Seeker. _

_I have to stop now, but I hope to hear from you soon, and then I want all details on your last weeks of summer holiday. Was the trip to the Bahamas nice? I wish I could have come with you. It sounded great! And did you try windsurfing?_

_Oops, as always, I can never finish writing. _

_Bye, and lots of love_

_Draco_

It was the first of September and I was getting on the Hogwarts Express. I was just as uninterested by everyone's doings as usual, but forced myself to listen. You never knew what could be useful later on.

Pansy was going on about shopping, and then how amazing it was going to be to have Gilderoy Lockhart as Defense Against the Dark Arts-teacher. After reading some of his books I wasn't especially impressed. He seemed a bit… self-conscious, if you see what I mean.

After listening to her and Millicent I sent out Crabbe and Goyle to see if they could find Potter anywhere. I wanted to say "hello". Tough after a couple of minutes they came back telling me that he was nowhere to be found. Granger was obviously sitting in some compartment down the train together with Longbottom, but Potter and Weasley were gone. I frowned. What had happened to them? They couldn't be expelled, could they? I was making up different scenarios during the rest of the trip, eventually deciding that Crabbe and Goyle probably were too stupid to recognize them. Of course they had been on the train.

As we went for the carriages I spotted Granger, and decided it wouldn't hurt to ask her.

"Oi! Granger! Where have you put Potter and Weasley? Finally got enough and threw them out the window?"

"Oh, stuff it Malfoy."

To my surprise she actually looked worried, and that made me wonder again. If she didn't know where they were, they hadn't been on the train. I started to look around for them as we made our way to an empty carriage, and as we later entered the entrance hall. I didn't pay much attention to the actual coming-back-thing, since Hogwarts had been pretty much a disappointment last year. I had expected it to be free. I had been hoping for a change, that I would be able to drop my shield and make real friends. But that was before my father informed me about that he knew everything that was going on at Hogwarts, and that he certainly would get to know if I misbehaved.

This year wasn't going to be any different, and I'm sorry if I didn't find it exciting to spend another term in the presence of Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Pansy Parkinson and the other kids in Slytherin. There was only one nice guy in our year in Slytherin, and I made quite some show of taunting him. It was only because he was a half-blood, not because he was the only one though, but he was certainly the only one who didn't care about it.

"Malfoy, blow out your candle."

"I do whatever I want, Zabini."

"Well, I'm trying to sleep, but I find it very difficult as you're making so much noise along with the very disturbing light."

"Why don't you try with earplugs and a blindfold?"

"Because it would be so much easier for everyone if you learned to be independent, without writing a letter to your father every second."

"Who says I'm writing to my father?"

"Your father, mother, does it matter? It makes me lose my beauty-sleep."

I laughed. But it wasn't a real laugh. It was harsh and sarcastic.

"Beauty-sleep, yeah right. There aren't enough hours in the night for you to get beautiful."

"Watch your mouth Malfoy!"

Zabini sat straight up in his bed and stared threatening at me. I stared back, and no one let go of the others eyes until Crabbe snored loudly from one of the four beds in the rooms. Both of us turned towards him, and stared for a couple of seconds before we turned to each other again. This time we were smiling.

"Just go to bed Malfoy." Zabini said and crept down under his sheets.

I shook my head.

"In a minute. I'm just going to finish. It's important."

He accepted my answer this time. He knew it would only take longer for me to finish if he was interrupting all the time.

I was of course writing to Melissa about this first day of term. I was writing about what me and my "friends" had been talking about at the Hogwarts Express, and about Potter and Weasley's arrival to the school. According to the rumors they had flown here with a car. It wouldn't surprise me if it was true. After all, it was Potter.

I finished with "lots of love", as always, before I folded the parchment neatly and put the Malfoy-crest on it. Then I put it in the drawer of my night table, before I silently climbed to bed and blew out the candle.


	6. Chapter 6

At breakfast next morning we got interrupted by a howler to Weasley. Most people, or I should say most Slytherins, laughed at him, but I found myself feeling bad for him. Of course I didn't let it show, and I delivered my usual comments with a sneer.

After breakfast we went to Professor Flitwick's class. It was as interesting as ever, and I paid a lot attention, becoming annoyed if anyone disturbed me.

After lunch I went for a walk, as always followed by Crabbe and Goyle. I couldn't get rid of them even though I insulted them every second step, they were literally glued to my side. The more I tried, and the more I failed, the more annoyed I became. The more annoyed I got, the more I tried to act my annoyance out on them, but they barely blinked. Which made me even more annoyed. It was a bad circle going on forever, just as last year, and it drove me mad.

As we went over the courtyard I spotted Potter, and as usual he was a far too easy shoot.

There was this little kid asking him for a signed photograph, it was as if someone wanted me to make a scene.

"Signed photos? You're giving out signed photos, Potter?"

I didn't care about being quiet. I said it loud for everyone to hear, and as Potter was about to reply I roared even louder.

"Everyone line up! Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!" I sneered.

"No, I'm not. Shut up Malfoy."

He looked angry and I felt satisfied. I wasn't the only one who had a bad day anymore.

"You're just jealous!" The kid with the camera had spoken. I raised one eyebrow and looked at him in despise.

"Jealous? Of what? I don't want a foul scar right across my head, thanks. I don't think getting your head cut open makes you that special, myself."

Crabbe and Goyle sniggered, and I almost rolled my eyes at them for being so stupid.

"Eat slugs, Malfoy." Weasley stepped up next to Potter. I ignored the fact that Crabbe made himself ready for a fight. Weasley was an even easier target then Potter when it came to verbal abuse.

"Be careful, Weasley. You don't want to start any trouble or your Mommy'll have to come take you away from school." I made a bad try to impersonate his mother. "If you put another toe out of line…"

Some older Slytherin that had been listening laughed. I smirked, enjoying the attention.

"Weasley would like a signed photo, Potter. It'd be worth more than his family's whole house."

Weasley furiously took out his wand but was interrupted by Granger.

"Look out!" She whispered, and I turned around just to see Gilderoy Lockhart walking towards us.

"What is all this, what is all this? Who's giving out signed photos?"

I silently sneaked away and left Potter to his fate. I didn't like being around that bad excuse for a teacher if I didn't have to.

Two days later I sat in one of the armchairs in the Slytherin common room trying to write an essay for professor McGonagall, when I was interrupted by Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Quidditch team captain.

"Malfoy, I need to talk to you."

I raised one surprised eyebrow but stood up to follow him.

"Yes?"

"I heard that you were interested in joining the team?"

I nodded silently. That was true, but I was a little worried about what would come up next.

"Then I'm happy to say you are now a full member of it. As a Seeker."

I tried to smile, but my disappointment almost swelled over.

"Just like that? No tryouts?"

"Well, since the team has got a very generous offer from your father there will be no use for that."

Oh, crap. I had told him to get me into the team.

"Oh, and the generous offer was of course…?"

"A Nimbus 2001 to every member of the team."

Of course, how do you bribe a Quidditch team if not by buying them new racing brooms?

"When's first practice?"

Flint smiled.

"So you're in then?"

I nodded.

"I haven't decided yet, but I'll stay in touch."

He walked away, and I took a few moments to calm down, and put on a pleased expression before I walked back to my armchair again.

_Melissa. I am now officially a member of the Slytherin Quidditch team. My father bribed them with new racing brooms, so they let me in as a Seeker. Though I know that's my own fault. If I wouldn't have pretended to dislike Potter that much all summer, if I wouldn't have claimed that everyone thought to high about his Seeker-skills, that anyone could be that good, I wouldn't need to play that position. And it was I who told him to make sure I got into the team. I can't regret that more at the moment. I don't even like Marcus Flint (the team captain). He's a foul player, the whole team is foul players. And Quidditch shouldn't be foul. _

_Sorry, I know you don't care very much about Quidditch, but I have been looking forward to it. I wanted it to be real. It would have been the first thing I actually made because I wanted to. _

_Anyways, school is interesting. I think I could reach Grangers level by the end of term, and then father can't complain about grades anymore. _

_You wondered if I've had any encounters with the Gryffindor's yet? Ehm, well, yes I have. I have teased Potter, made remarks about his scar (it sounds lame, I know, but he was really angry), and I insulted Weasley (said his family was poor etc, it always turns him off), but nothing to Granger. Nothing bad at least. I just get so jealous seeing them together. I want to be her friend, but she hates me. I know I deserve it, but it still hurts. She's the smartest person I've ever met (except from you), and I find myself watching her during class. She noticed yesterday, and I made a face to her so that she wouldn't suspect anything, but I just felt so ridiculous. _

_Well, I've got to go now. Homework to do. _

_Lots of love,_

_Draco_


	7. Chapter 7

I woke up early Saturday morning. It was time for my first Quidditch practice and I was actually quite nervous. I went down to breakfast with the rest of the team, and Flint was talking tactics the whole time. I listened hard all the time, making mental notes of all that seemed important. He obviously had great ambitions for the team this year. With superior brooms and being part of the best house of Hogwarts (the one that cheated without second though), we would easily win the Quidditch Cup.

Eventually we made our way towards the Quidditch field. As we went Flint told us that Oliver Wood had booked the field for Gryffindor today, but that we had a special permission from professor Snape, because we needed to train our new Seeker. Me, with other words.

Everyone in the team was excited to see the faces of the Gryffindor's as they heard the news and we walked straight onto the field, interrupting in the middle of their practice.

Oliver Wood dismounted in front of us, followed by the Weasley-twins and Potter. I stood hidden by the whole team, so I didn't have clear view, but I heard them perfectly.

"Flint! This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!"

I saw the rest of Gryffindor dismount, between square shoulders, as Flint answered.

"Plenty of room for all of us, Wood."

"But I booked the field! I booked it!"

"Ah, but I've got a specially signed note here from professor Snape. 'I, professor Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker.'"

"You've got a new Seeker? Where?"

He had obviously realized that they seemed to be one player short. They parted and I stepped forward. Overdramatically, I know, but it served its purpose.

"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" It was one of the Weasley-twins, I don't know which one, who asked.

"Funny you should mention Draco's father. Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team."

As one man we showed our brand-new Nimbus 2001's. They shone in the sunlight.

"Very latest model." Flint kept on. "Only came out last month. I believe it outstrips the old 2000 series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps sweeps the board with them."

As he made his last remark he smiled malicious at the Weasley-twins. They were both owning Cleansweeps. I had worn a wide smile throughout the conversation, even though I at the moment rather would be somewhere else.

"Oh, look. A field invasion." I turned to see Granger and Weasley crossing the field. My heart missed two beats as I saw Granger, and I felt a stich of jealousy as I watched them.

"What's happening? Why aren't you playing? And what's he doing here?" Weasley showed off with his remarkable intelligence, as always.

"I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley." I said, straightening up a little more. "Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team."

I was happy to see his astonishment as he watched our brooms as well. I couldn't help but keep teasing.

"Good, aren't they? But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms too. You could raffle off those Cleansweeep Fives. I expect a museum would bid for them." I sneered as I got the rest of my team laughing, and as the Weasley-twins flushed.

"At least no one in the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in. They got in on pure talent." Granger shoot me a poisonous look, and I swelled over with jealousy as she defended the Weasley's. As if something else was to be expected from her.

"No one asked for your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood."

The words were out before I could stop myself, and I felt as if I was melting away. What had I been thinking? I barely noticed as Flint stood in front of me to stop the twins from throwing themselves at me and the whole Gryffindor team almost lost it.

"How dare you!"

"You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" Weasley pointed his wand at me, but the hex backfired and hit him in the stomach. He fell to the ground and Granger hurried to his side to make sure he was alright. As he then began throwing up slugs I laughed harder than anyone else in my team. I stood on all four in the grass, laughing so much I had tears in my eyes, but it never reached my insides. An empty feeling was growing inside of me.

_Melissa. I don't know what happened today. I just got so… jealous. I know it was stupid, because of course she should be on their side, but it still hurts that she doesn't even know me, and yet she hates me that much. I called her Mudblood, Mel, Mudblood! I don't know where to go, I feel like creeping out of my own skin. It doesn't fit anymore. I feel disgusting, and dirty, but it doesn't matter how many showers I take, the feeling is still there. On the inside._

_Please don't hate me. I don't know what to do._

_Regretful_

_Draco_

_Draco, it'll be fine, and I don't hate you. I never will, because I know that you never meant to say it. _

_And I'm sure that Quidditch will be fine anyways. Even though you're not Chaser. I spoke to a guy in our school's team and he says that there's nothing saying you can't change position later on. Give it a year, and if a Chaser-position becomes free try for it. And Seeker can't be that bad? It's still Quidditch, right? _

_I'm learning to play the guitar at the moment. Josh is teaching me. Sometime you have to meet him! He is very nice and funny and I think the two of you would be great friends!_

_You know I found this great book in the library yesterday. It's about astronomy, and it's called "Astronomy: Unraveling the secrets of the sky". I know it sound a bit… well… cheesy. But you should read it anyways! It's very interesting. Though I spend an hour reading it last afternoon when I actually should have been studying potions. But potions is sooo boring! Clair clearly disagrees with me, but I can't see the point in it._

_By the way, there is this boy in third year that is very handsome. Though I don't think he really knows who I am. And that sure is worse than being hated. You know what they say, "there's a thin line between love and hate". _

_Keep your head together, stay cool, and act well my friend. _

_Lots of love_

_Melissa. _

"Act well my friend", she'd wrote. That was when I decided to make a real difference between me, and the person people expected me to be. I had been impressed by the way an actor could become someone else since Mel first introduced me to Muggle-movies. If I would have been a Muggle I would have been an actor, no doubt. And now I had my chance.

I started making up lists with differences between me and the-supposed-to-be-me. And I noticed the changes day to day. I developed my acting skills more for every minute that past.


	8. Chapter 8

Suddenly it was Halloween, and me and my group of Slytherin went to the feast. During the whole party I tried to locate Granger but she wasn't anywhere to be found. Nor was Weasley or Potter. I tried to push them out of my mind, but without any success. Though due to my newfound skill I was able to act as if nothing was strange and as if I was having a great time.

After dinner we moved together with the rest of the school, but as we entered a corridor suddenly everyone stopped and fell silent. I pushed my way to the front watching the scene with growing interest and fear. There was a message written in blood on the wall and Mrs Norris was hanging from one of the torch brackets. And in the middle of it all stood no one but Potter, Weasley and Granger. She looked frightened and I quickly read the message on the wall: The Chamber of Secrets has been open. Enemies of the Heir, beware.

I remembered what my father had told me about Salazar Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets and I heard his voice in my head: The school will be purer than it has been for centuries.

"Enemies of the heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

The effect was immediate. All eyes on me and there, curtains down.

Just that no curtains fell, no audience praised the performance. Instead, Mr Filch, the caretaker, turned up. I watched as he made a scene, and as professor Dumbledore showed up and took care of it all. We were told to get back to our common rooms, but halfway to the dungeons I sneaked back up again. I carefully walked over to the wall where the message was written. There was water on the floor, just beneath Mrs Norris, and it came from the girl's bathroom, which was the only door anywhere close. There was a sign which read Out of Order but I didn't feel like entering. Instead I studied the message more closely and spotted a long line of spiders making their way away from the scene, out of a window. I watched them curiously for a while before I decided I'd better write to my father about it as soon as possible.

As I entered my dormitory Zabini sat on his bed waiting.

"Where were you?"

"None of your business." I answered curtly.

"How do you connect the Chamber of Secrets with getting rid of Mudbloods?"

I slowly turned away from my desk to look at him. Crabbe and Goyle were listening too.

"Don't you know the story, Zabini?"

"I do."

"Then you should make the connection as well."

I sat down and started to write to my father. Just a short letter, asking for information. I was going to send it first thing tomorrow.

_Draco, I'm glad to hear the heir of Slytherin is now back to finish his work at Hogwarts. This was of course what I spoke to you about this summer. You know the story about the Chamber, and I will tell you nothing further. Just try to stay out of the way and do not intervene. Let the heir follow through with his plans._

_Lucius Malfoy._

During the next week the word began to spread that Potter should be the Heir of Slytherin. It almost made me laugh. A real laugh. The thought that he would be the heir was just ridiculous. He wasn't even in Slytherin, I mean, what were people thinking?

In the Slytherin common room, however, people were a little bit more sensible. The idea of Potter as the heir mostly made people laugh.

"In the sake of Merlin's pants, he's in Gryffindor!"

But seeing as everyone was convienced that Potter wasn't the heir, people started to think about whom it could be. I soon realized that my name usually came up as an alternative in this whispered discussions.

It was Parkinson who first voiced it.

"Don't you all think that it's ridiculous that Potter is considered being the heir of Slytherin?"

She threw me a weird look, and I mumbled an agreement together with everyone else.

"I mean, it has to be someone from a respectable family. With pure blood." She added quickly. I looked up from my charms book, just to realize that everyone around the table were looking at me.

I cleared my throat, and leaned in so that everyone would be able to hear me as I started to talk in a quiet voice.

"I am not the heir of Slytherin. Unfortunately. I don't even know who it is, because my father doesn't want me to intervene. Therefore, I'm going to watch the heir as he makes his moves, and hopefully, in the end, we'll get rid of all these filthy Mudbloods running around. Personally, I will have a great party when Granger's gone. You're all invited."

I sat back in my chair again and faced my smiling and giggling Slytherin colleagues. I smiled back, but inside a chilly wind started to blow. What if Granger actually was hurt? I needed to find out more about this heir before he got to her.


	9. Chapter 9: This is Goodbye

Draco nervously wiped his hands on his pants. He had been stupid to agree to this. No one cared about his life or his side of the story. _Breathe in and out – in – out – in through the nose – out through the mouth. Deal with the panic, don't let it take over._

He tried to find a comfortable positon when the door flew open and a woman in her mid-thirties burst into the room.

"Mr Malfoy, I'm so sorry I'm late! It's a pleasure to meet you."

"No worries, you too."

"So I guess we'll just go straight to the point," she said seriously as she settled in the chair opposite him. "You told me in your letter that your wife talked you into this, so I'd like to clarify whether this is truly your own choice. Because there is no point in writing this book unless you want to open up and come out with the absolute truth. Are you willing to do that? Because once it's out there, there's no going back. So I'll ask again, are sure this biography is what you want?"

Draco hesitated. He knew he didn't have to do this. He could back out now and never speak of those years again, leave it all behind like he'd always wanted. Or he could tell his story to this woman and wait for public's judgement of him. The answer was suddenly clear to him and for the first time that day Draco felt as if he could relax.

"Yes, I'm sure."

She studied him closely for any sign of regret but found none.

"Very well then. Draco, is it alright if I call you Draco? Please tell me what it was like being the only son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy?"

Draco took a deep breath and began talking.

* * *

><p>Hello!<p>

I know there aren't many of you following this story (and I doubt anyone care any more) but yet I'd like to thank you for showing interest in my first attempt at writing and publishing fanfiction. I, regrettably, have to inform you all that this story will not continue. I started it three years ago and stopped writing it half a year later and in the years that have passed I have moved on and away. This last little bit was simply me being a little sentimental and giving the story something akin to an ending.

I hope none of you will take this too hard and I am, once again, thankful for showed interest.

Lots and love

Goodbye

P.S. I obviously have it all figured out and occasionally revisits the story in my mind to rewrite it over and over again. Sadly this does not change the fact that this story is over. I might try my hand at something similar in the future but until then this story is locked safely in my head.


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